Fly Me To The Moon...
by Lancynth
Summary: Just a thought, but what if after Zechs started playing Ambassador in Space, re ran across... Ah, but that'd be telling the whole story. No pairings, some humor, hints of 6x9; Noin, Treize, and Dermail's POVs. Enjoy!


---Fly Me To The Moon---  
  
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Disclaimer—I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, I'd sue the older Gundam series for the horrifying Zechs prototypes in 'em… *Shudder*  
  
Warnings—None! This is safe enough. Some hints of maybe 6x9, but that's all…  
  
This is yet another of my Gundam Wing twists. What if... Nah, that'd give it all away. In any case, it's after Zechs begins playing Ambassador of Sanc and interfering with Tsuberov's delivery quota of mobile dolls.  
  
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The moon was full that night, gleaming like a lonely sugar cube in the sky. Very tempting, so very tempting…  
  
Did you know that both in the Academy and the Alliance—and Oz, for that matter—they kept all of us on very strict diets? No extra sugar. Not a bar of chocolate to be seen. Brownie mix was banned from the bases. Care- packages were searched for chocolate-chip cookies before delivery. Heck, not even Sweet & Low for your tea or coffee! I'm not kidding—the vending machines didn't even have chocolate Power-Bars. How's that for horror? And here I was, a complete chocoholic, with no means of satisfying my needs, for six years! It was sheer torture, except that during leave I managed to smuggle in a cache to tide me over between breaks. Rank has its privileges, and being a rare female on a base full of men helps a lot when you want your way… Others weren't so lucky... but I digress.  
  
All right, all right—I'll get back to the story, but only if you stop whining at me like that! Just call me Noin, okay? Not, "But /Nooooooooooiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnn/…" Brrrr. I swear, your voices seem higher every time the bunch of you say my name…  
  
Anyway, that was the night that pretty much ended the war.  
  
Yes, yes, I know Heero says he blew up everything between the world and peace a day later, but he always hates to admit that the whole idea came from elsewhere. It's all about male ego, that… I'll explain /that/ some other time.  
  
What he didn't know, is that other events preceded it, led to it. It all happened like this…  
  
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Treize Kushrenada yawned, and tapped the visual phone, resisting the urge to run a hand through his hair. It was 3 am. Who the heck calls at 3 am? But then, who the heck is still /up/ at 3 am?  
  
//I am… Somewhat… Need more coffee… Badly.// A longing look flickered at the cold mug of black sludge that had been waiting for a free moment on the corner of his desk. //No time now… Dermail. /Then/ coffee… Mmmm… Coffee requirements growing. You'd better be quick, Dermail!//  
  
"Duke Dermail."  
  
"Ah, Treize! Good to see you're up. What time is it over there?"  
  
//Up? I never got to bed!!!.// "3 am. It's only a one-hour time difference…" //Bloody diplomats with their bloody whining…//  
  
Before Treize could berate the source of his lack of sleep, Dermail was continuing—and not seeming to hear anything Treize had said thus far. "Good, good. Anyway, something's come up and I need you to look into it with whatever troops you can muster."  
  
//Great. NOW what?// Treize felt a sudden decline in enthusiasm, and a new surge of urgency for coffee. His left hand twitched towards the mug, barely restrained in time. That let a yawn escape through his guard and reveal all his dentalwork to the Duke's face. "Oh? What happened?" He was too tired for the nicety of apologizing. //Not enough energy remaining. Must. Resupply. On. Caffeine!//  
  
"It seems that a large shipment of colonial chocolate was intercepted and hijacked… You know, the old-fashioned European style of milk chocolate that they make in the colonies? What melts on your tongue like thick syrup? The members of Romefeller are quite upset by this. It's such creamy stuff, so very popular among our members. Quite a tragedy, quite a tragedy…"  
  
Treize blinked.  
  
"Chocolate," he stated flatly, numb. Something tickled the back of his tired brain at that word.  
  
The Duke grinned at him brightly—well, as brightly as a shark at a nice tuna. "Yes indeed. Chocolate. You would think it was pure gold from the fuss raised up right now, but the members need satisfaction. So look into it, Treize." No compromise in that tone.  
  
"And where did /this/ happen?" The urge to sigh was almost killing him, but Treize had suffered in the name of dignity before, and could endure it now… For a little while, anyway. //Then I'll need coffee…//  
  
"Halfway between Earth and the Moon base," Dermail stated calmly. "And that reminds me. Your ex-pilot—Merquise, he calls himself still, I think. He's becoming a bit of an annoyance. Seems to think that Tsuberov's new mobile dolls are clay pigeons for the shooting with that museum reject suit of his. Why, last week's delivery was only half the desired quota! Take care of that, will you, Treize?"  
  
//Take care of this, look into this, take care of that… He needs a butler or valet, not a general! Just because I'm a blood relative… Wait a minute… Need coffee!!// He couldn't wait any longer. Scooping up the mug, Treize took a long chug of black sludge. Something was teasing the back of his mind, and he needed the caffeine for access to those mental files. Something vital there…  
  
"Treize, are you listening to me?" the Duke demanded sharply, scowling.  
  
With a blissful sigh, Treize set his mug down. "Of course. Just thinking. Where did you say that chocolate shipment was intercepted again?"  
  
"Really, Treize, you should listen better. Halfway between Earth and the Moon base…"  
  
For a moment, Treize pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes…  
  
"This is hardly a good time for meditation, Treize. I thought you were always a man of action. Your parents—"  
  
"Would have sent me to bed four hours ago," Treize finished, eyes snapping open abruptly. "I am but planning, Granduncle. There is something I must remember… Please spare me a moment."  
  
"I just hope it has to do with the crises on hand!" Dermail sniffed. But he watched Treize intently without a word after that admonishment.  
  
//I wonder… Where would…?//  
  
Turning his chair around, Treize stood up to stretch his legs, taking a stride to look out the windows at the glowing moon and the night so peaceful outside his cage of paperwork. The moon was extremely bright. In fact, it seemed to smile crazily down at the world, amused by little human antics below…  
  
//Chocolate… You know, /I/ could use all that… Wait a minute!//  
  
"What happened to /this/ week's shipment of mobile dolls, Granduncle?" Treize asked softly, thoughtful.  
  
The moon was still smiling down at him. Something felt very, very wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck began to tickle.  
  
Dermail frowned at the younger man's back. "It's running late, I suppose, until Tsuberov can make an escort for it, too. Or so I gather. He'd hardly contact me—doing so would announce it all to your ex-friend."  
  
The moon smiled still on the sleeping, unaware, and unwary populace…  
  
Treize's eyes stared out the window a long moment… then widened slowly.  
  
"How many mobile dolls are available for an attack in space? How many /suits/ can you scrounge up, piloted and non, Granduncle? This is very important!" Panic touched his voice.  
  
Duke Dermail snorted. "Really, Treize, it's just /chocolate/, but… Probably 200, at the most. Why?"  
  
Treize stared in horror out the window at the night—and shuddered violently before turning to face his uncle. //No—no, I'm getting out of this now! "Not gonna do it!" Need out—need OUT!// Panicking, he leaned towards the screen, and announced desperately, "I resign!"  
  
Dermail stared at him as if Treize had turned into a sheep before his eyes. "Wh—WHAT?!?"  
  
"I—I resign!" Struggling to reclaim his dignity again, he shoved fear down with another fortifying chug of coffee. "Forgive me, Granduncle, but—sometimes it's best to surrender now. I can't… No, I just can't. Please—I resign. Just—just let me go to the Luxemburg estates and hide…" //I'm rambling—I can't believe I'm rambling… Oh, what the heck—I'm not staying involved in this! I'm NOT suicidal! I don't LIKE pain! Especially pain inflicted upon my person!//  
  
"Treize, what on Earth has gotten into you? Just what is the meaning of—"  
  
"Just look out the window, Dermail!!!"  
  
With that, Treize snapped the connection and fled.  
  
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//Really, how rude! The pressure must have finally gotten to the boy… A shame.// Duke Dermail glared at the empty screen before him, sniffing disdainfully. //And here we need some way to deal with that pesky pilot /he/ trained! Quite annoying…//  
  
But Treize's last words haunted him. Standing, the spokesman for Romefeller strode over to the window, looking out…  
  
"Hmph. Look out the window indeed…"  
  
Stars glimmered above. Colonies gleamed, reflecting sunlight from the approaching golden orb. All was still dark. All was peaceful, quiet.  
  
//And /my/ sleep was disturbed by their demands that I do something!// Dermail snorted again at his memory of the other counselors' urgent calls, all demanding he do something NOW… panicked. Rather like Treize was just now, actually.  
  
"My grandnephew probably should step down from the pressures of command, I suppose. Seems they're too much for anyone but myself!"  
  
//Then again… Why /are/ they all so panicked? It's just chocolate. We heard about it in the late evening, really—and nobody made a public fuss then. It was only after dark that they all decided to bombard me with messages to act…//  
  
Frowning, he glared at the moonlit ground outside. "Fools. They make a fuss over /chocolate/, but let Merquise chop up half the mobile dolls we need, and they just shrug!"  
  
//And to top it all off, Merquise is probably up there reducing the next shipment even as we talk!//  
  
Duke Dermail looked up at the moon accusingly.  
  
Something sank in, and his eyes widened.  
  
"But… how… Who…?"  
  
The moon smiled down with almost evil mischief in its expression…  
  
Literally.  
  
Someone had drawn a huge smiley-face on the moon. No, not drawn—/carved/. Two big pits for eyes, one large smooth curving line for a mouth. Huge. Perfectly centered. Someone may as well have replaced the orbiting mass with a huge while smiley sticker… plus a few meteor-pockmarks and craters, of course.  
  
It smiled down on Earth like a glowing, laughing warning…  
  
How that had appeared on the moon in such a short space of time baffled him. Tsuberov was obviously out of business for good—one eye had replaced the factory-site. You'd expect taking that place out would be difficult. You'd expect such a mammoth amount of carving to take a lot of time and manpower, too. You'd expect a big toll in mechanical and personal energy. You'd expect it to be an almost inhuman accomplishment. Coffee had to be involved in such a feat, but couldn't help anyone accomplish it on its own. And the only ones with the tools and skills even close to capable of such a project were one of seven unaccounted-for mobile suit pilots and five, possibly six special suits…  
  
Miss Noin was in Sanc, helping Princess Relena, so make that six pilots.  
  
//Chocolate…//  
  
Things began to click together in Duke Dermail's mind, slowly but surely. He shivered, staring at the moon, feeling doom was near. The end of the war, anyway.  
  
//My war…// A plaintive wail of loss…  
  
Angrily, he whirled to slap his intercom. "Forget Sanc—send everything up there and take out that damn Tallgeese pilot before it's too late!" he hollered desperately.  
  
But deep down, he knew it was…  
  
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Yeah, it was too late by then. Heero had seen. Heck, everyone with /eyes/ had seen and probably guessed, if they knew anything about the war! You didn't have to be a genius or the perfect strategist—or perfect soldier—to figure out exactly what happened.  
  
The hijacked chocolate shipment? Well, once Heero and the other Gundam pilots contacted the one who had confiscated it, it was shared equally. Howard had to divvy up the portions—nobody else could evenly distribute it without giving in to the need to nibble a bit while doing so. You'd think a mammoth container-vessel like that would last more than two days, but hey, I guess the Gundam pilots hadd been deprived of it recently, too. Only about half of it remained by that point, though they made the best of it between all of them.  
  
I just wish they shared it with me…  
  
I need hardly mention that in those two days, at least 80% of the existing bases on Earth and in space were nullified completely, and Romefeller begged for peace? And that all mobile dolls—and their engineering plans—were wiped out of existence? Heero probably told you all about that part. Or Duo—heck, he was still bouncing off walls for a month later after all that chocolate /despite/ all that activity! And Chang Wufei… Now /he/ was scary on a sugar-high. Trust me, you /never/ want to hear him laugh when he's all pumped up like that—it's enough to make anyone wet their pants! I'm glad we set him on Romefeller with Duo after the pair cleaned up a few of the wandering squadrons in space… The pair had the lot of them begging to be allowed to surrender after just an hour. As for Quatre—thank God Heero just pointed him out at the asteroid bases, because I don't think the colonies would have survived him. Trowa, at least, was a bit better at directing his energy, so he got the more delicate destructive work at the big colonies…  
  
Oh, and Zechs?  
  
He was laughing the whole time…  
  
…that he was wiping out every mobile suit and military base on Earth. With Howard's and my help, of course. Not that it was as tough as Tsuberov's Moon base had been, probably…  
  
I suppose I did forget to tell you, didn't I?  
  
Poor Zechs.  
  
He's a completely insatiable chocoholic.  
  
Probably more addicted to the stuff than me, even. And, like me, he never had a chance to build a tolerance against sudden boosts of sugar…  
  
Reminds me of the time I managed to sneak him a Ho-Ho before he went into space to run a few soldiers through their paces up there. Poor Treize almost had a heart-attack when Zechs had the lot of them spell out "Hi Noin!" with their formations in the night sky. I only got to read about his flight to the Moon base, settling in, and running one emergency drill before he was forced to make them sign off up there.  
  
But I digress…  
  
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The End.  
  
Hope you guys liked it. No, I didn't warn about caffeine and sugar because they're legal substances… I keep getting an image of Noin smiling evilly and sneaking Zechs a chocolate chip cookie right before Finals right before graduation to give him a boost to the top… It makes his comment about her really being the better pilot fit very nicely. ;) 


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